The Future We Chose
by 123lovestory
Summary: **Allegiant spoilers** Tris survives, and now she has to learn to live a new life without factions. Follow Tris, Tobias, and all the other Divergent characters as they learn to put their lives back together. My take on how Allegiant should have ended, and my little way of dealing with the ending.
1. Saved

Disclaimer- I don't own any rights to anything in Allegiant, including the parts I used straight from the book in the beginning.

* * *

**Saved**

I sweep my eyes across the room, searching for the device that will release the memory serum virus. I was there when Matthew described it to Caleb in painstaking detail earlier: a black box with a silver keypad, marked with a strip of blue tape with a model number written on it. It is one of the only items on the counter along the left wall, just a few feet away from me.

I'll have to wait for the right moment, and do it fast.

"I know what you did," I say. I start to back up, hoping that the accusation will distract him. "I know you designed the attack simulation. I know you're responsible for my parents' deaths- for my _mother's_ death. I know."

"I am not responsible for her death!" David says, the words bursting from him, too loud and too sudden. "I _told_ her what was coming just before the attack began, so she had enough time to escort her loved ones to a safe house. If she had stayed put, she would have lived. But she was a foolish woman who didn't understand making sacrifices for the greater good, and it _killed_ her!"

I frown at him. There's something about his reaction- about the glassiness of his eyes- something that he mumbled when Nita shot him with the fear serum- something about _her._

"Did you love her?" I say. "All those years she was sending you correspondence… the reason you never wanted to stay there… the reason you told her you couldn't read her updates anymore, after she married my father…"

David sits still, like a statue, like a man of stone.

"I did," he says. "But that time is past."

That must be why he welcomed me into his circle of trust, why he gave me so many opportunities. Because I am a piece of her, wearing her hair and speaking with her voice. Because he has spent his life grasping at her and coming up with nothing.

I hear footsteps in the hallway outside. The soldiers are coming, I assume. Good- I need them to. I need them to be exposed to the airborne serum, to pass it on to the rest of the compound. I hope they wait until the air is clear of the death serum.

"My mother wasn't a fool," I say. "She just understood something you didn't. That it's not sacrifice if it's someone _else's_ life you're giving away, it's just evil."

I back up another step and say, "She taught me all about real sacrifice. That it should be done from love, not misplaced disgust for another person's genetics. That it should be done from necessity, not without exhausting all other options. That it should be done for people who need your strength because they don't have enough of their own. That's why I need to stop you from 'sacrificing' all those people and their memories. Why I need to rid the world of you once and for all."

I shake my head.

"I didn't come here to steal anything, David."

I twist and lunge towards the device. The gun goes off and pain races through my body. I don't know where the bullet hit me.

I can still hear Caleb repeating the code for Matthew. With a quaking hand I type in the numbers on the keypad.

The gun goes off again, but this time I don't even feel the impact. Maybe I'm really shutting down. When the pain is too great you stop feeling it.

I hear Caleb's voice speaking again. _The green button._

I start to fall and slam my hand into the keypad on my way down. A light turns on behind the green button.

I hear a beep, and a churning sound.

I slide to the floor. From the corner of my eyes I see David, slumped over in his chair, but it isn't from the serum. The edges of my vision blur, but I can still make out the red covering David's face. Blood.

Someone shot him. The last gunshot wasn't for me, it was for him.

As if the entire world has decided to bleed, I feel something warm on my neck. Red. Blood is such a strange color, dark.

"Tris!" Someone touches me. I don't know who. "Tris, hold on!" The voice calls out, penetrating some kind of barrier between the real world and the one I occupy.

Someone's hands slip under my head, pulling me away from the ground.

"Open your eyes, Tris!" The voice commands forcefully. I obey.

The world spins around me, the edges of my vision not only black, but an array of colors.

I groan as I start to feel the pain, emanating in waves form my stomach. "Hold on, Tris! Help is coming!" The voice instructs, Matthew. Matthew is holding me, Matthew is urging me to stay.

"Help." I whisper, my lips heavy and numb, like I'm speaking though someone else.

Things begin to blur, overlapping each other like dimensions at war. I fade in and out of consciousness. I finally fade away for a second, only for another wave of pain to wash over me, waking me once again.

I am dying in his arms for minutes; I am dying for centuries.

* * *

Tobias's POV

We drive past the fences and stop by the front doors, which are no longer manned by guards. We get out, and Zeke seizes his mother's hand to steady her as she shuffles through the snow. As we walk into the compound, I know for a fact that Caleb succeeded, because there is no one in sight. That can only mean that they have been reset, their memories forever altered.

We walk through the abandoned security checkpoint without stopping. On the other side, I see Cara. The side of her face is badly bruised, and there's a bandage on her head, but that's not what concerns me. What concerns me is the troubled look on her face.

"What is it?" I ask, trying not to let my imagination take over.

Cara pauses, biting her lip.

"Where's Tris?" I say, my heart rate increasing.

"She's alive." Cara says quickly, holding her hands up.

"In what state?" I ask frantically.

"One of flux." Cara says, her voice tight. She's struggling to stay together.

"What do you _mean?_" Christina asks roughly.

"Tris was shot. We're doing our best, but we still aren't sure if she's going to survive this." Cara says calmly.

* * *

Tris's eyes are shut peacefully, her face calm. She looks younger. Usually she looks older than sixteen, not by her body, but by her actions and intensity. Now she looks even younger than sixteen, maybe fifteen.

I rub little circles on her hand, pressing my thumb against her skin. Her breaths are gentle and soothing. She's alive. For now.

I memorize the planes of her face, the sharpness of her nose, and the gently curve of her chin. Her short blonde hair is splayed across her pillow like a halo.

"Can I come in?" A voice interrupts my reverie. I turn to face Caleb, standing in the door way uncertainly.

"Yes." I say stiffly.

He takes the chair on the other side of Tris's bed, at first reaching his hand out to take Tris's, but pulling back when he sees my face.

He folds his hand awkwardly in his lap, glancing around the room nervously. He tries not to look at me, or to stare at Tris, so he ends up focusing on the ceiling tiles above us.

"This is my fault." He says softly.

"I know."

"If I had just carried through, not allowed her to take my position…." Caleb continues.

"What's done is done." I say, not because I want to comfort him, but because I would much rather sit in silence than hear about why he's alive, and she may not make it through the night.

"She's going to live." Caleb says. "She has to."

I don't respond. My stomach twists into a knot. Uriah is going to die. I can't allow myself to think that it could happen to Tris too.

Caleb suddenly stands, as if he can't bear to be in the room for another second.

"I'm sorry. I really am." He looks at me, forcing me to make eye contact. His eyes are the same as hers, sending a shock of pain through my heart.

"Sorry for what? Sorry for delivering her to her own execution? Sorry for letting her go instead of you? You have a lot to be sorry for. So what _exactly_ are you apologizing for?" I spit out, my own anger taking me over for a second.

I pull back, squaring my shoulders and returning to looking at Tris. He isn't worth the energy.

Caleb walks all the way to the doorway before he responds. I don't turn around to look at him.

"I'm sorry that I'm not the one in the bed." He says simply. "I can't change the things that I've done, but I can only hope that one day you will forgive me. Both of you."

I listen to his footsteps fade away down the empty hallway.

* * *

Tris's POV

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

My eyes flutter open, but I quickly shut them again. I feel heavy, like someone has replaced all of my bones with lead. I can still feel a dull ache in my side, but it isn't as bad as it used to be.

"Tris?" A voice asks. My eyes fly open, greeted by Tobias's dark blue eyes. He isn't smiling, and he looks tired, but he wears a hopeful expression. I glance around at the bare hospital room, the machine steadily beeping to my side, a constant reminder that I lived.

"Tobias," I say, but my words catch in my dry throat.

He leans forward, bringing my hand with him. "I've missed you so much." He says, brushing a hair off my forehead.

I try to sit up, but a moan escapes my lips before I'm all the way up. Tobias gently pushes me back down. My free hand clutches my side, which is thicker with the bandages wrapped around my abdomen.

"What happened?" I ask weakly. Tobias pulls his chair even closer to my bed, pressing his knees against the mattress.

"You survived the death serum, and you released the virus." He says. "But David shot you." His voice is darker when he says David's name.

"Why am I alive?" I whisper, because any higher voice level hurts. Its as if the world is trying to shove my words back down, keeping me from speaking as strongly as I would like to.

"Matthew killed David before he could shoot you again." Tobias explains.

"Matthew saved me." I say, letting the words sink in.

"Yes." Tobias confirms.

"And the rest of the city?" I ask.

"It's over. We've finally won." Tobias says, finally letting a smile onto his tired face.

"It's over." I repeat. I want to believe it. But nothing has ever come easily; I've never had a moment in my life that's been free. It's all been in preparation for the next thing, the next stage of initiation, the next battle.

"Where do we go from here?" I ask, tightening my hold on his hand, despite the fact that it hurts.

I am overwhelmed with the reality of it all. Everything that I've based my life off- the factions- is meaningless. The Bureau is no more. I don't know how to start picking the pieces of my life back up, where to go from here.

I don't know how to live a life with choices.

"The city is being rebuilt, not just from the damage, but the society." Tobias begins. I squeeze his hand tighter, and he slows down a bit. "It's going to be difficult, returning to a normal life, but it's going to be okay." He says strongly, compellingly.

I am almost convinced.

"And while our future may be uncertain, one thing is certain." Tobias leans in further. "I love you, and wherever I go from here, I want to be going with you."

"I love you, Tobias." I let my statement answer for me. I muster my last ounces of strength to reach up and run my thumb along his jaw line.

He leans down and gently kisses my cheek, then my forehead, and then my cheek again. His lips are soft and reassuring.

"Sleep, Tris, and when you wake up, I'll be here." He says softly.

I slip into sleep with the comfort of his breaths, and the warmth of his hand.

* * *

A/N Please review!

dftba- Ella


	2. The Chasm

**The Chasm**

Tris's POV, 2 Weeks Later

"Remember the first time you stood here?" Tobias asks as we look down into the Chasm.

"Feels like ages ago." I reply.

The Pit is like a ghost town, an echo of what was once beautiful. It lacks its usual hum of voices, the shouts of the Dauntless. Even the light from the glass ceiling seems somehow duller, like it only shined for the fearless. There is no one left here; they've all gone to the city. We only came to pick some things up from Tobias's old apartment, mostly being clothing. We have to pick up the old pieces of our life, to find a way to paste them back together and create something beautiful.

"It's strange. We lived a whole life, so oblivious to the truth." Tobias whispers. The emptiness of the Pit makes you want to whisper, like you're intruding on a sleeping creature.

"We believed what we saw. They were really good at blinding us." I say.

"Yet, from all the lies weaved into our lives, they couldn't mask the most rudimentary things." Tobias replies. His dark eyes bore into mine.

"Like what?" My eyes flicker back to the raging waters below.

"Pain. Compassion. Love. They couldn't break those things. They were present in every faction." He replies.

I let a small smile slip onto my face.

He gently takes my elbow and leads me down the narrow path into the Chasm. We sit down on the slippery rock, the same rock that we shared our first kiss on.

We sit next to each other, our thighs pressed together, but we don't speak. It isn't an awkward silence. We're both lost in our own thoughts, staring into the dark water that used to represent so much.

So many things that used to represent something are now inane. The colors for each faction, the Chasm that represents the fine line between idiocy and bravery. I suppose, that while these things no longer represent factions, they do represent something beautiful. The tattoos on Tobias's back represent someone striving to live a life blended by the five virtues of humanity; bravery, selflessness, intelligence, honesty, and peace.

"I feel empty." Tobias finally says.

"I understand." I reply. I get what he's saying. I spent sixteen years of my life suppressing my thoughts that were defined as 'wrong,' shoving my words back down my throat. I strived to change myself to fit an ideal, and I struggle with the fact that I don't have anything to _be_ anymore.

I just am.

"I know that it's wrong. You can live a life without factions- they've been doing it outside the fence for thousands of years- but it still feels strange. I used to think about what I was going to say, wonder if it fit what I was supposed to say, _be_, and now I don't have to." He explains. His voice has a level of hollowness to it.

"I guess we have to find other things to live for. Make our own mini factions. We have to pick the thing that matters most to us and build our lives around that. Factions may have been wrong, but at some level they were smart. They gave people something to live for- to fight for. Our lives aren't empty. If anything, they've grown. We used to have to pick from five ways of thinking, but now we've got infinite choices. The difficult part isn't our lack of meaning, its how we pick _our_ meaning." I say, words pouring from my mouth before I can filter them. My thoughts are jumbled, struggling to make sense of a world that used to have clear lines, lines that are now blurred.

It's like I've been looking at the world upside-down for the longest time, and somebody flipped it right side up.

"So I guess our next step is figuring out what matters most to us." Tobias says softly.

"Yes."

"What matters most to you?" He asks. He slips his hand into mine and rests both of our hands on my thigh.

"I don't know. I guess the things that used to matter still matter. I still want to be brave and selfless. But even more than those two things, I want to love you. And I do. So I guess I'm already half way there." I reply, turning to look at him. His eyes are darker down here, more intense. They used to intimidate me. They don't anymore. Now when I look at them, I see why they are so blocked off.

Tobias has much to hide.

"I want to accept the things I cannot change. I can't change my past; I can only help it mold my future. And love you. I want to love you, every day, every minute." Tobias whispers, leaning in as if he's telling me a secret.

"I promise to live a purposeful life; a live devoted to the ideals of my past and future. I promise to live a life devoted to my love for you." I whisper, running my thumb along his jaw line.

"And I promise to live a life that is bigger than the scars of my past. I promise to love you, because when it comes down to it, you matter most." Tobias replies, his voice soft and soothing, yet rumbling like thunder.

I turn so that my legs slide onto his lap and take his face into my hands. "I think we've got a long path in front of us." I murmur.

"I think you should kiss me." Tobias smirks as he wraps his muscular arms around my waist, and my skin tingles upon contact.

"I think, yes." I smirk, pressing my lips against his.

His fingers run through my hair, and I let out a small moan as he tightens his hold on me. It feels like the last time I was down here with him, only amplified. There are no boundaries anymore.

I twist around again, so that I'm straddling his legs. I run my hands up his back, along his neck. I cannot get enough of him.

* * *

Tobias's POV

"What level?" The man in the elevator asks as Tris and I step on.

"Seventy two." Tris responds.

The man presses our button, and the level 86 one for himself. The buttons glow red, standing out on the endless panel of numbers.

I look at the man, trying to imagine what faction he was in before. It's a game I like to play, not because people are defined by their pasts, but because I want to see the kind of mark their pasts have left.

He wears an Erudite blue shirt, buttoned down and tucked into grey Abnegation pants. His hair is meticulously combed to one side, presumably to hide the bald top of his head. Erudite.

"How are you today?" The man asks as we pass the tenth level.

"Fine thanks, how are you?" Tris responds.

The man proceeds to make a comment about the weather, to which Tris agrees with him. I don't speak. Small talk has never been my forte.

Finally, the elevator dings, and we step out and into the seventy second level of the Hancock building, the level of our new apartment. The building wasn't my prime pick, but Tris wanted it because it's close to our friends, and after all she's been through, she deserves some choice.

The hallway still feels dusty, despite the fact that the whole building has been cleaned. It still feels abandoned, as if we're intruding on some kind of ancient culture. We are the only people on this level so far.

We shuffle down the hallway, me towing both of our duffle bags. Tris walks slowly, still recovering from her injury. The bullet pierced her kidney, and she had to have it removed.

"Here we are." I stop at door number 464, dropping the bags to pull out my key and unlock it.

"Home sweet home." Tris says in a singsong voice.

"Exactly." The door clicks open, and I slide the key back into my pocket.

Instead of getting our bags, I reach over and scoop Tris into my arms. She laughs, and I grin. She didn't laugh a lot in the hospital.

I kiss her on the cheek and kick the door open. "Welcome home." I whisper in her ear, taking our first step into the apartment.

Sunset light streams in from the wall of windows in front of me, giving the room a soft glow. The room has a fine layer of dust covering the floor, but it's nice, and much larger than my Dauntless apartment.

I carry Tris through the apartment as she comments about where different things will go. The living room is large and rectangular, lit by the best part of the apartment; the floor to ceiling windows on the far wall, giving an amazing view of the city.

"Imagine the view at night." Tris says, smiling as she points at the windows. I shudder. Heights aren't my thing, but we can always get curtains.

On the left side of the apartment is a spacious kitchen, with a dusty countertop made out of some kind of shiny stone.

There's only one bedroom, but that's all we need. Luckily, the bedroom's window isn't nearly as large as the living room one.

After our mini tour of the place, I set Tris down on the ground and retrieve our bags from the hallway.

I set them on the ground in the middle of the main room, unsure where else they could go. We have no furniture, just the mats the city has issued as people relocate.

Tris lies our mats on the ground by the wall. She pulls my quilt out of the bottom of a duffle and lies it across our mats, before digging around for some kind of pillow. In the end she just takes our bags and sets them up against the wall, letting them act as our pillows.

I help her lie down, feeling guilty as she flinches at the pain from the movement. I lie down next to her, and with only a small moan of pain, she fits her body next to mine.

"I love you." She whispers.

"I love you too." I reply, moving my head to give her a small kiss.

I don't fall asleep until her breaths are soft and even, until the sun has set over the horizon.

I'm afraid that the nightmares that plague me on a nightly basis will return and scare Tris. I'm fairly loud in my sleep. It isn't until I realize that the few times I've slept beside Tris, I haven't had nightmares that I finally sink into a state of sleep.

Tris fights of my nightmares by simply being beside me.


	3. Cleaning

**Cleaning**

Tobias's POV

I hear voices before I see anything. That's usually how waking up works. Sounds gently invade your sleep, pulling you away from dreams and into reality.

"You can just put them anywhere." I hear Tris say.

"Okay." A male voice says.

I open my eyes slowly, stretching my arms above my head. My body aches all over from sleeping on the hard ground, even with Tris by my side. My eyes feel like a weight is pulling them shut, and it takes effort to keep them open. It's been a long couple of months.

Tris's back faces me, and in front of her stands Zeke. To their left are four grocery bags, their structured burlap sides bulging. I guess Zeke helped her carry them, with her injury and everything.

"Thanks again." Tris says, and gives Zeke a light hug.

"Any time."

"Come by if you need anything, really." Tris says, and I can hear the underlying meaning in her voice. Uriah's death has been really hard on Zeke, and it's difficult for all of us to watch him in so much pain.

We're all healing, but it's particularly hard for Zeke. Uriah shouldn't have died. I shouldn't have _let_ him die.

"I know." Zeke says, his voice hollow. "Well, I've got to go. My mother will be wondering where I am." Zeke says. I can hear the hurt in his voice. Uriah's death is a taboo topic, and mentioning it, while necessary, only reminds Zeke of the pain he's in.

He sees me as he exits. His eyes skim over me, not as if he doesn't see me, but like he doesn't want to. I nod at him. He gives me a weak nod, still not looking in my eyes.

"What's all this for?" I ask as soon as the door clicks behind Zeke.

Tris shrugs as she gets down on her knees, rooting around in one of the bags for something. "Food. Cleaning supplies. _Lots_ of cleaning supplies." Tris laughs. She tosses me something wrapped up in thin plastic. A chocolate muffin.

"Breakfast." She says as she comes and sits up against the wall beside me.

"Where did you get all this?" I ask, gesturing at the bags.

"They've turned Millennium Park into a sort of relocation facility for people coming from outside the fence. And they're handing out supplies for people in their new homes." Tris explains.

"Oh." I say, minimizing my speaking as I sink my teeth into the moist muffin.

"Are you ready?" Tris asks, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"For what?" I say.

"Cleaning this place from head to toe. All day." Tris says, her voice teasing.

"Oh God." I groan. This place really does need to be cleaned- desperately- but I don't want to be the one to do it.

I've always hated cleaning, even in Abnegation, when I had to do it all the time. I like thing to _be_ clean, I just don't want to do it.

Ever.

* * *

Tris's POV

My fingernails are caked with dirt as I continue to scrub the bathroom tub. The main room was easy to clean; all we really had to do was mop it, then clean the walls and windows. It only took a couple of hours.

The kitchen took another hour, especially because the shelving was absolutely disgusting.

Now Tobias works on cleaning the bedroom while I scrub every inch of the bathroom. The apartment is actually very nice, once it's clean.

I finish the tub, sighing and sinking against the wall.

"Tobias." I say. I can see him through the bathroom door, which is connected to the bedroom.

He doesn't respond, his head still bent over the corner of the room. I watch him as he reaches into the bucket of warm water and pulls out a sopping, bubbly sponge. He squeezes it out over the bucket before pressing it into the corner.

Tobias may not like cleaning, but he's good at it.

"Tobias." I repeat.

He still doesn't hear me.

"Tobias!" I finally yell, picking a sponge up out of my bucket and throwing it through the doorway and into the bedroom.

It lands on his back, sticking for a second before flopping to the ground behind Tobias. It leaves a smudged hourglass shape on his back.

He turns around slowly, and I burst out laughing. "That got your attention." I say.

Tobias doesn't say anything; instead he reaches into his bucket for another sponge. He stands up slowly, taking the soaking sponge with him.

He takes four long strides over to me, looming over me with a composed expression. He holds the sponge over my head, and one lone drop drips down my forehead before he twists the sponge, letting water spill down my face.

I scramble to get up, trying to make myself even with Tobias's smug expression.

"We even now?" Tobias asks, looking down at me. A drop of soapy water rolls down my cheek, slipping off my chin and down my chest.

"Yeah, sure." I reply, leaning against the wall casually.

"Okay. Good." Tobias says, spinning around to return to his work. Before he's out the bathroom door, I grab my bucket of water, heaving to get it high enough over his head.

I tilt the bucket over, dumping the sponges and lukewarm water all over his head. Tobias gasps, spinning around, looking more shocked than angry.

I smirk, placing my hands on his soaking chest. His cotton shirt clings to his body, highlighting his abundant muscles. "_Now_ we're even." I say coyly.

"No, we're not." Tobias laughs, lunging into the glass shower. He pulls me with him, sliding the glass door behind him. The shower is plenty big enough to hold both of us.

I try to push past him, to get out of the shower before he turns the water on, but he blocks the door. He twists his arms behind me, turning the water on. The shower spurts alive, sending freezing water across both of our bodies.

"Tobias!" I whine as Tobias reaches over my head and removes the showerhead. He sprays the water up and down my body, covering every inch of my body in freezing water.

After a second I begin to laugh. I feel carefree for the first time in a long time.

I lunge and grab the showerhead, twisting it around in his hands so that it sprays him instead of me.

He gasps at the temperature of the water, and I laugh again. He moves the showerhead back up, placing it in its little holder, and turns the water to a warmer temperature.

"I'm sorry." He says, the water now spraying across both of our bodies. I shiver in my cold clothes, the cotton pressed against the tiniest curvatures of my body.

"No you're not." I say, putting my hands on his chests and pressing lightly. He backs up into the tile of the shower, and takes me with him. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I can feel each muscle on his chest pressed against me.

"You're right. I'm not." He says, laughing.

"I know. I'm not sorry either. This is fun." I reply, standing on my tiptoes to even myself with him. After a second he grabs my thighs, and I wrap my legs around him so that I'm straddling him.

"What part? The water, or me?" Tobias asks, his face inches from mine.

"Both." I whisper.

Tobias laughs, and with water streaming over us, he presses his lips to mine. Our lips attack each other with a ferocity I haven't experienced since we were in the hotel room.

He pulls back for a second, smirking. "I think I like cleaning, now." He says.

I laugh. "Shut up and kiss me." I command, leaning back in.

His hands move up my thighs, moving along the side of my body. I sigh with pleasure.

There may be water raining down on us, but we are made of fire.

I weave my fingers through his wet hair, sighing as his hands skim over my chest. I move my fingers to the hem of his shirt, wrapping the wet fabric in my hands before I pull it over his head. He tosses the soaking piece of fabric to the side, and I let out a carefree laugh.

Things are so much better when they aren't limited by fabric.

I wrap my legs even tighter around Tobias, and he moves his hands to the bottom of my shirt, at my hips. I lace my fingers through his belt loop as he begins to pull the shirt back, separating the wet fabric from my skin.

He pulls it up slowly, setting me back on the cold tile ground so that he can lean down and kiss my stomach.

"Perfect." He whispers as he kisses my bellybutton, still pulling my shirt up.

He moves his lips left, still kissing me, but pauses when he sees the six-inch scar on the side of my body. The scar from the surgery. It's still pink, even if the stitches are gone.

He gently kisses it. "Beautiful." He whispers against my stomach. My chest flutters.

He continues to kiss me, moving up my ribs. I stop him before he can take my shirt all the way off.

"Tobias." I clear my throat. His lips tickle the top of my stomach. "Tobias," I say again, my voice breathy. He has that effect on me.

"Tris." He murmurs against my skin.

I gently take his hands, which still hold the fabric of my shirt, and pull them down. I bring his head back up to my level, looking him in the eye. Water drips down his face, the showerhead still raining warm water.

"I can't do this." I say softly. I pull the edge of my shirt up, on my left side, and point to the scar.

"I _want_ to." I say. "But I can't." Tobias nods, putting his hands gently on my waist. A single one of his hands covers the length of my back.

"I know." He says, and he leans in to kiss me, more gently this time.

We kiss for another minute, lightly, like we have all the time in the world.

The most beautiful part?

We _do_ have a lifetime. We are no longer limited by war or factions. We have a limitless future to do whatever we want, whenever we want.

I have forever with Tobias.


	4. Talking

**Talking**

Susan's POV (One month later, a month and a half after Allegiant)

Caleb's hand slips into mine, and I lean in closer as we walk. I enjoy the small, affectionate touches we share. We've both lost a lot of people from our faction, but we do have each other.

I look over at Caleb, trying not to make it obvious that I'm looking at him. I like his profile, his features soft, yet still handsome.

Caleb stops in front of my house, on the opposite side of Millennium Park than his house. He turns and faces me, taking both of my small hands into his large ones. He's always had hands just a bit too big for his body, but I like that.

"I had a really good time today, Susan." He says. I like the way he says my name.

"I've had a good time, too." I reply, smiling shyly. It still feels strange to talk so openly to someone about my feelings. We didn't do much of that in Abnegation.

He takes a deep breath. He does that a lot. I think that it helps him cope, stay grounded. "I've been remembering my parents a lot lately, but you help me forget for just a while. Thanks." He says. He leans down and gently kisses my cheek.

I can't suppress my grin. We've had small kisses before, but each one still feels new and foreign. Especially in public.

"I'm glad that I can help, but you know that you aren't alone." I say, looking up at his bright green eyes. They flicker away for a second.

"I know. I have you." He ignores my actual meaning.

"Yes." I say gently. "And you have your sister."

"She hates me." He replies. He sounds like a little boy, looking for excuses to stay away from his chores.

"You miss your parents. She's a little bit of your parents, but beyond that, she's your _sister._" I say, trying to sound persuasive. I know that Caleb won't be able to start living again until he speaks to Beatrice.

"I don't know how to." Caleb says weakly.

"Call her. Take a walk. _Talk_ to her. It'll be tough in the beginning, but she can't hate you forever if you keep trying. Show her that you care." I urge. I want Caleb to be happy.

He averts his eyes, not responding.

"Just promise me that you'll try. Okay?" I look up at him. He nods.

"Goodbye." He drops my hands, breaking the enchantment from a moment before. I sigh.

"Goodbye." He gives me a light hug. I walk up the steps to my door, watching his tall figure disappear around the corner.

He knows that I'm right. He just has to take the initiative, accept the truth.

I know that he will.

* * *

Tris's POV

I am still in the shower when the doorbell rings.

I hop out of the shower, standing in front of the foggy mirror for a second. I swipe my elbow across the glass, clearing a spot to look at my reflection. I twist to the side, examining the scar on my abdomen. It's barely red anymore, but it's still there, a reminder of the war that gave me my life today.

I pull on a pair of black jeans and a flowy blue Erudite top. It still feels strange to wear other colors, but I'm growing more used to it. Colors aren't synonymous with certain factions as much anymore. They're just colors, and it's nice to have choices.

I run a comb through my hair, before twisting it into a knot on the back of my head and pulling on a pair of black combat boots. I glance in the mirror one more time, making sure that I look at least somewhat presentable.

I look like an entirely different person than six months ago, when I was still just an Abnegation girl. I look older, not because my physical features have changed drastically, but because the way I carry myself is different. I'm not helpless anymore. I'm brave, and smart, and I've lived through more than most sixteen year olds.

It isn't time that ages you as much as experience.

I step out from the bedroom and into the main room, blinking as my eyes adjust to the brighter light ensued by the floor to ceiling windows.

"Tris." Caleb stands up from his position on our couch.

"Hey." I say. 'Hey' doesn't seem like an adequate greeting, but there are only so many words to choose from.

"Are you ready?" He asks. His words are guarded, clipped.

"Yes." I say.

I give Tobias a light peck on the cheek and step into the hallway with Caleb. We walk to the elevator in a heavy silence. Different questions run through my head, but none of them seem right. I don't want to ignore what he did, but I also don't want to get angry with him before we actually go anywhere.

I'm still angry. And I probably will be for a long time. But at the same time, I put my life on the line for him, and I didn't do that only to never speak to him again. He's my brother. He's the only blood family I have left. I miss him.

"I like the apartment." Caleb finally says as we step into the elevator.

"Thanks." I reply. "We just got the last of our furniture in."

"Awesome." Caleb replies. He doesn't hold my eye when he speaks; instead his eyes flicker around hesitantly.

We pass another couple floors in silence. "Where are you living?" I grapple at something to keep the conversation going.

"An apartment at Millennium Park." He says.

I stop trying to pretend that things aren't uncomfortable, because they are. Instead I stand in silence for the remainder of the elevator ride.

We walk through the streets silently. You can still see the marks of war all over the city, from shattered windows to bent street signs. You can also see signs of rebuilding, not only in the war torn parts of the city, but also in the abandoned ones. People begin pouring into the city as soon as we opened the gates. They have to live somewhere, even if that means reoccupying formally abandoned sections of the city.

"How are you?" Caleb asks as we near Millennium Park, our destination. I suppose his question is a good starting point.

"I'm good, thanks. I'm still getting used to this life." I reply. "What about you?" It's strange how for so long I could talk to Caleb easily, and now I have to think over every word.

That shouldn't happen to family. Then again, brothers shouldn't betray sisters.

Caleb replies as we step into the park and take a seat on one of the benches, looking towards the makeshift relocation centers on the other side of the park. "I miss them," he says. I don't have to ask whom he's talking about.

"So do I."

"During the war I didn't really have time to mourn their deaths, but now with all this free time….." His voice drifts off.

"You didn't have time during the war? What where you so _busy_ doing? I mean, other than betraying me." I say, answering before I can stop myself. My words drip with malice.

"I know that you're mad." Caleb says, his voice calm.

"Gee, really? Did the Erudite teach you how to read emotions so eloquently?" I spit back. I look away, not surprised by my anger, but sad that after all this time, that's all I want to say to him.

"No." Caleb says, his voice defiant. He never could handle sarcasm. He stares at a leave blowing across the grass at our feet, the first sign of Autumn.

We sit in silence for a minute. Maybe we can never go back to normal. Maybe I didn't even love him when I went into the weapons room. Maybe I loved the memory of him, the person he used to be, not who he's become.

"I wanted to do it, you know that? I wanted to go in the weapons room. You _chose_ to go in." Caleb says, not looking at me.

I turn and look at him in bewilderment. His words are true on paper, but it's sickening that he's trying to defend himself. He doesn't even understand why I'm angry.

"You wanted to go in for the wrong reasons." I reply, holding his gaze as I speak. I want to see if his eyes still bear any resemblance to the brother I grew up with.

They don't.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Tris." Caleb sighs, looking out towards the morning bustle of the facility. His voice has transformed into an almost condescending tone, the same one that he used when he scolded me in Abnegation.

Hatred flares up in me. He thinks he knows everything; that the facts are all you need to see the truth.

He's wrong.

"I want you to acknowledge what you did. That it was wrong." I fold my hands in a lap, struggling to make someone so blind see what's right in front of him. "You've said sorry, but you haven't admitted that what you did was wrong. I've let go for what happened at the Bureau, I really have." I say, my voice cold. "It's everything else. You _told _Jeanine what to put in my simulation, the things that would hurt me most." I shudder at the memory of all the simulations Jeanine put me through. "Have you ever been in a simulation, Caleb? Do you even know what they're like?" I hiss.

"I thought I was doing what was best for everyone." He says, not like he's apologizing, but like he's still defending his actions.

"Best for everyone." I scoff. "And you get to decide what's best? You decided that what was best was _torturing_ me? Because those simulations _were_ torture. Look at it from any angle. They were torture." I say. My voice is strong. There isn't anything he can do to me, any pain left to inflict.

"You willingly walked into that situation." Caleb says. "You walked into the Erudite building, knowing fair well what was going to happen."

"I would hate you even if it wasn't me who went! You didn't just betray me personally, you betrayed our parents! You worked with the woman who _killed our parents_!" My voice raises, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.

"You act as if I didn't- don't- love them! And I do love them. I miss them so much, I see them in everything." Caleb's eyes search through mine. They send a wave of pain through my body. I know that Caleb loved are parents; that's part of the reason its so hard to grapple with what he did. " And Jeanine didn't kill our parents. David did." Caleb says, flipping back to the Caleb I've come to know. He's clinging to anything that can convince him that he's human; that what he did wasn't wrong on every level.

"That doesn't matter. We thought that she had killed them. And you still went there." I say, shifting to look at him better, seeing if I can detect a hint of understanding. "I've given you chance after chance to make things right. But you seem hell bent on having me hate you forever. You clearly aren't ready to apologize, and I'm sorry about that. I put my life on the line for you. You're my brother." I say. My voice is sadder than anything else. "I want to _know_ you, because I think you're lost."

I stand, turning to look down at him. His eyes avert mine.

"But I can't know you until you're ready to apologize. _Honestly_ apologize." I look him in the eye. "When you're ready, you know where to find me." I turn around and begin to walk away.

He doesn't stop me.


	5. Very Awake

**Very Awake**

Tobias's POV, One Week Later

I ladle a spoonful of thick pancake mix into the pan. I love the sound it makes in that very first second, the sizzling pop. I sprinkle a couple of chocolate chips into the batter before I flip it, glad to see that the other side is a warm brown. Perfect.

I flip the pancake onto the plate, with the other ones, and turn the burner off. I smother the pancakes in butter, then pour the thick amber syrup on top. I put two pieces of crispy bacon on the side, smiling down at my creation.

The smell reminds me of Sunday Abnegation breakfast. We didn't have the syrup or bacon, but the smell gives me a small wave of nostalgia. It's poignant, but it doesn't take me over like it used to. My memories of stressful mornings and cramped closets are slowly being replaced with memories of Tris and the life we've built together.

I pick up the plate, along with the glass of orange juice, and begin to walk towards the bedroom. I'm halfway there when a sleepy Tris emerges from the bedroom door.

Her eyes are barely open, and her hair hangs loosely on her shoulders, the left side of her head puffing out a bit with an especially large knot. My shirt, which she has taken to wearing, falls to her knees. She looks adorable.

"What smells so good?" She says drowsily.

As if noticing that I'm only a couple of feet in front of her, she looks up, her face instantly lighting up at the sight of the plate.

"What's that?" She asks, only her 'what' sounds more like 'was.'

"Breakfast," I say.

"And this is why I love you," she replies.

I laugh and walk back to the counter, figuring that she would rather eat at the counter than in bed, now that she's up. She follows, each of her steps sluggish and lethargic. It's not that she isn't a morning person, it's that she takes a _really _long time to wake up.

She yawns as she slides up onto the barstool. I walk around the island, turning the burner back on for my breakfast.

She instantly digs into her meal, sighing in pleasure with her first bite. Her eyes instantly perk up, and she begins to stuff more bites into her mouth before she's fully done with the one before.

"Hungry?" I tease, nodding at her nearly empty plate.

She nods, not taking the time to fully acknowledge my bad joke. She finishes a couple minutes later, leaning back into her chair and patting her stomach. Her eyes droop back down as if she's remembering how tired she is.

I flip my second pancake onto my plate, quietly turning the burner off.

"I'm so tired." Tris yawns, stretching her arms above her head. I laugh to myself. She finished her food as if she hadn't eaten in years, but as soon as she's done, she's returned to her normal morning demeanor.

I quickly walk around the island, grabbing her waist and pulling her out of the chair. She doesn't react quickly, and I easily have her small frame over my shoulder, her head facing behind me. "We should get you back to bed, if you're so tired." I say, walking back to the bedroom.

"No!" Tris squeals, fruitlessly waving her legs in the air and slamming her fists on my back.

"Nu-night." I kick open the door and flop her onto the bed amongst the fluffy quilt and unmade sheets.

I lean over her, my face inches from hers. Her blue grey eyes are suddenly wide, and she wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me fully onto the bed. I support my weight above her body with my elbows.

"Good night?" I say, but it comes out as a question. She raises her eyebrows ever so slightly.

"Good morning." She whispers in reply, pulling me down for a soft, sleepy kiss. I lean down further, resting my body on hers, but not crushing her.

She flips me over, letting me relax against the bed. I can barely feel her light body on mine, even when she begins to melt into me, resting on me fully.

I lazily rest my hands on her back as she runs her fingers through my hair. Tris has the most wonderful hands. They're so small, but so powerful. They run down the side of my head, tickling my ears, and smoothly caress my neck. They wander along my shoulders and to the side of my chest. She makes her way down my body, stopping at the hem of my shirt.

She toys with it in her hands for a second, her knuckles tickling my skin. I try not to squirm. She twists the fabric into her fist, pulling it taut against my chest. She suddenly sits up, straddling my hips, and pulls the shirt up off my chest. She flings it to the side, and instantly comes back down to kiss me again.

This time she holds herself up more, her hands wandering against the planes of my chest.

A small sigh escapes my lips. Tris touching me makes my heart beat faster than I thought it ever would. It gives me the Dauntless thrill, but in a different way.

It's more of a thirst for more, a _need_ for more. I can't get enough of Tris; she can never touch me enough. The _need_ is such a rudimentary emotion, right along love and passion. It's lust.

Her hand stops over my chest, right above my heart. She pulls back suddenly, her eyes wide.

"You're heart is beating so fast!" She exclaims, pressing her cool hand against me.

"Yeah. You do that to me." I reply, toying with the strands of her hair that go farthest down her back. I put one of my hands just above her chest, over her heart. I can feel the rapid _thump thump_ against my hand. "Yours is too." I say.

"I know. I just didn't know you felt that too." Tris whispers.

"I do. I always do." I smile up at her, pressing lightly on the small of her back. "You always make me feel this way."

She smiles softly.

She leans back down, not to my lips, but to my jaw. She kisses my jaw, then my neck. I take in a sharp breath as she kisses my collarbone. My hand clutches against her thigh, pulling her closer to me.

I am keenly aware of how close my hand is to the hem of her shirt, which has ridden up.

I run my fingers along the edge in the same way that she did. She stops short from her light kisses on my chest, and I wonder if I've done something wrong.

She sits up, staring down at me for a second. Her eyes stare at me thoughtfully, and she crosses her arms over the edges of her shirt. She pauses again, the look on her face conflicting. She's debating with herself. I've seen her wear this look many times, an inner argument churning inside her brilliant head.

Finally she slowly pulls the shirt up, tossing it to the side, surprising me. Tris has always struggled with her intimacy, but it shows how much she's grown, her making the first move. I take in her body, trying not to ogle her.

She truly is beautiful. Her body isn't anything I haven't seen, but it's like I'm seeing it for the first time again. It's always like that.

She leans back down, our skin pressed together with nothing in between. I run my hands along her cool back, her spine. She hooks her hand through my belt loop, filling the tiny amount of space left between our bodies.

"I love you." She murmurs against my lips.

"And I you." I pull back the tiniest bit, just enough for us to make eye contact. Her eyes look bluer in the orange morning light, but the edges are still the soft grey I've come to know and love.

"Good morning?" She whispers.

"Very good." I reply softly. "You awake yet?

"Very awake." A smile tugs at her lips.

My heart skips a beat as she leans back down.


	6. Forgiven and Gone

**Forgiven And Gone**

**A/N **Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm glad you guys like my story, and feel free to give me suggestions at any time :) Listen to Ghost Towns by Radical Face when you read this. It fits. Anyway, enjoy!

Caleb's POV

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Tobias asks, holding the syringe a couple of inches from my neck. I hold my body stiffly against the chair. I've always hated shots.

"Yes." I nod. I need to do this; I need to know what Tris felt under the simulations.

Tobias nods and brings the syringe to my neck. I feel him slowly press the tip to my skin, but I stop him before it actually goes in.

"Don't tell Tris I'm doing this." I say. "Please."

Tobias nods again, and presses the syringe fully in. I feel nothing for a second, and then the world goes dark.

* * *

There is something in front of me- my own faint reflection. I reach out, and my fingers find cool glass. I look up and find my own green eyes starring back from the dark. I'm standing in a glass box.

There is a tap on the glass, and I turn to face Susan on the other side. She points to the ground. She wears a smirk I've never seen her with. There is a thin layer of water on the glass.

I touch my hands to it, and it's cool. It seeps into the bottom of my pants. I look back up, to Susan, but she's gone. I am faced with nothing but darkness.

The water begins to rise rapidly. My heart starts to beat quickly as it reaches my ankles. I slam my fist against the glass, but it doesn't move. All attempts at escape are futile.

I begin to panic. I can't get enough oxygen to my lungs, and I begin to hyperventilate. There is no way out. I'm going to die here. The water only rises faster with each second, passing my knees and reaching my hips after only a minute.

It isn't just water. It's black and deadly looking. I can't see my feet through the darkness. I can't even see through the glass. It's all black.

I scream.

I'm going to die.

The water rises to my chest. Shivers run through my body. The water is now as cold as ice.

"Help!" I scream fervently, hoping Susan will hear me and return.

She doesn't.

I'm all alone.

The water laps against my neck, and I push my hands against either side of the glass, bracing myself. It does nothing, just like before.

I tilt my head up, pressing my cheek against the top of the glass as the water reaches my chin.

I take one more gulp of air before the water fills the box entirely. I press my eyes shut as I begin to feel dizzy, heavy.

Air. I need air.

I shove my face against the top of the glass, but I can't reach air. No air. I need air.

I open my mouth, but I am not met with what I desire. My mouth fills with icy water.

I need air. Not water.

* * *

Tris's POV

I grin as Tobias comes through the door, setting my book down on the table and moving to give him a welcome home kiss.

"How was-" I begin to ask him how work was, but stop as I see who's behind him.

Caleb.

I take a step back, never making it to kiss him. "What's _he_ doing here?" I ask maliciously.

"I just want to talk." Caleb steps from behind Tobias. He's an inch taller than Tobias. I never remembered him being so tall.

"We already talked." I hiss.

"I want to talk again. I want to apologize, properly." Caleb says.

I open my mouth, a snarky reply on the tip of my tongue, but Tobias stops me. "Just listen to him, Tris." He says.

I glare at Tobias. He gives me an even stare, and after a second, I sigh. "Fine." I spit.

"Can we go somewhere private?" Caleb asks, glancing at Tobias.

"Fine." I say again.

I lead Caleb out the door, barefoot. I'm not leaving the building. I take wide, long strides to the elevator. I jam my thumb on the up button, and the elevator opens almost instantly. Caleb is right on my heals as I step in.

We ride in silence to the top floor. I climb up the ladder to the roof and step onto the tarmac. It's just cold enough to make me shiver.

I walk to the edge of the building, climbing over to sit on the edge. Even if I fell, there's another small ledge about ten feet down. Caleb climbs over and sits beside me. His long legs reach down much farther than mine.

We sit in silence for a minute, staring across the city. It glows in front of the setting sun, the glass buildings illuminated in orange light. It's one of those rare autumn sunsets where the sky is painted with long, fingerlike clouds. They stretch across the horizon, glowing pink with the sun, then orange, and finally a soft yellow.

"I've done a lot of wrong in my life." Caleb starts. His voice is soft, just like I remember it from Abnegation.

I could insert a snarky comment there, but I don't. Caleb's making an effort, and we've already tried the arguing route. It didn't work.

"I've made bad decision after bad decision, and I don't deserve all the chances you've given me." He says.

I nod.

"Working with Jeanine was wrong, I see that now." Caleb pauses, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "After what you said about simulations being torture, I went and did one. I wanted to feel what you felt." Caleb stops. I turn and look at him, at the pained expression on his face. I can't believe that he would do that for me.

"Caleb." I say softly.

"It was terrible. I didn't even know. I didn't know how awful everything I was doing was." Caleb says. His voice is choked. He presses his hands between the bridge of his nose. "And I didn't know Jeanine was going to kill you. She said it was just an idle threat- that she was just going to keep you prisoner. I didn't _know_." Caleb turns to look at me.

My stomach twists into a knot. His eyes are bright green, just how I remember. They hold so much pain.

"I am so sorry. _So_ sorry. I can't even…." Caleb drifts off. "I can't expect you to accept my apology. I just hope one day you will, especially now that….." He drifts off again, turning away.

"What's going on?" I ask, leaning to see his face.

He doesn't saying anything.

"Caleb, I forgive you. I _do_. Now, what's going on?" I ask frantically, growing more worried with each passing second. I gently take his chin, turning his face to look at me.

Caleb mumbles something.

"What?"

"Susan and I are leaving." Caleb says. He scrunches his face together as if he's afraid of my reaction.

"What? What do you mean 'you're leaving?'" I ask, but I know what he means. I just hope I'm wrong.

He's leaving the city.

"I can't stay here." Caleb says softly.

"You have to stay!" I cry out. "I need you!" A lump rises in my throat, threatening to make my cry if I speak again.

"I have to. It's not just that I see our parents everywhere. It's the _guilt." _Caleb says. "I did the simulation a week ago, and it took me this long to get the courage to come and apologize again. Now that I fully understand what I did, I can't stay. I hate myself here. I hate _who I am_ here." Caleb says. His voice is pleading.

"Please don't go." I whisper. My voice is small, and it pains me to realize that tears are rolling down my cheek.

I love Caleb. He's the last piece of my old life that I have left. I can't loose him too.

"I have to." Caleb whispers again. His green eyes search through mine.

It's too painful. I look away.

"You have to understand." Caleb begs.

The worst part is that I _do_ understand.

"Where are you going?" I whisper. I'm afraid that if I talk any louder that it'll come out a sob.

"They have an amazing science program in another one of the big cities." Caleb whispers.

"But you won't be safe!" I struggle for something to make him stay. "You're a GD!"

"I'm going with Matthew." He says. Matthew who saved me, now leaving with my brother. "He's a GP. He can help me get a job, make a new life for me."

"But I just got you back." I whisper.

"I can visit. And call." Caleb whispers.

I flip around, jumping off the ledge and onto the tarmac. I walk to the center of the roof, shaking with the tears pouring down my face.

I turn back around. I can't walk away again. Caleb stands right in front of me.

"You better visit!" I say, my voice angrier than I want it to be. It's so much easier to turn pain into anger than to accept it for what it is.

"I promise." Caleb says.

"You know that I'm sorry. For everything I said before." I say. My voice drips with pain.

"You have nothing to apologize for." Caleb whispers. He has tears brimming over his eyes, too.

He pulls me into his arms, strong and warm. He holds me tightly, his thick brown jacket making me feel safe. It only makes my cry more.

He pulls back after a second, and I stare up at him. I won't be able to look at him again for a long time.

"I forgive you." I whisper. I don't want him to leave with any guilt.

"I love you." He whispers. A tear drips off his face, rolling down his jacket.

"I love you too." I sob, my body shaking.

He pulls back, letting me go.

"I have to go now. We're leaving today. Susan's waiting in the lobby." He says. His voice is strained, like he's holding back.

I can't hold back. I've been strong for too long.

I nod. "Don't you dare forget about me." I say.

"I would never." He nods again. He turns and walks off the roof. I watch his body disappear down the ladder. He pauses when just his head is visible.

"Thank you." He whispers. He drops all the way down before I can reply.

With that one word, my little resolve disappears. I sink to my knees against a shed on the roof, pulling my knees to my chest and burying my head against them.

I can feel the little goosebumps on my arms, and there, on the roof and in the cold, I sob.

I'm going to miss my brother.

I love him.

And he is forgiven.


	7. Remembering

**A/N **Thanks for the reviews! I spent like an hour earlier today writing an outline for the chapters up to 15, which was awful and annoying and ug. I hate outlines, but I felt like I had to do one so that this story didn't get away from me. But it was rough. So, if y'all are sitting there and wondering if I have a plan, worry no more! I do!

Anyway, the timeline in the book is kind of shaky with how long the war was and everything, so I'm just going to go ahead and say that it's been a year since Tris picked Dauntless. Enjoy, and reviews are greatly appreciated!

* * *

**Remembering**

Tris's POV One Week Later

Tobias hooks his arm through mine as we walk through the city. Tobias and I like taking walks when he's done working, seeing the new city as it's remade. The full moon shines down at us from between the buildings, just bright enough to shine through the thick clouds. I shiver and move closer to Tobias's warm body. Winter is slowly replacing autumn, giving the city fine layers of frost in the night and morning.

We make our way through the highly populated parts of the city and out into the more damaged parts. The center of the city is almost full, and as new people come they begin to occupy the once abandoned areas. The city will be full soon.

I begin to walk faster, dragging Tobias with me as I catch sight of the marsh in the distance. I love the marsh's smell of salt and mud, and the soft chirp of night animals.

The Ferris Wheel quickly looms in front of us, and just beyond it, the rest of the marsh. I lead Tobias, weaving through abandoned storefronts on the pier to the carousel. I jump onto the worn surface, taking a moment to glance at my reflection in the chipped glass of the center. My cheeks are bright red, and my blond hair frames my head from under my hat.

I wrap my arms around the faded neck of one of the horses, leaning over to look at Tobias. In one easy jump, he comes up to face me from the other side of the horse.

"Do you remember climbing-" I start, but Tobias replies before I can finish.

"I couldn't ever forget." He says with a smile. He kisses me lightly on the nose, his lips warm on my cold nose.

"I wonder if they'll ever reopen the pier." I say.

"I don't know. I bet most of this doesn't even work anymore." Tobias replies, gesturing behind him at some of the other, smaller, rides.

"The wheel did." I shrug, remembering how Tobias saved me from falling by restarting the wheel.

"So it did." Tobias agrees.

I twist around the horse, coming to be only inches from Tobias. He raises his eyebrows at me, and I smile hopefully. "Care to climb the wheel?" I ask tentatively. I know that Tobias hates heights, but it's worth a try.

"Not particularly." Tobias says.

"Please?" I beg.

Tobias shakes his head.

"Come on." I lean in closer, pressing my body to his. I put my gloved hand on his cheek, smiling slightly. "You've lived through a war. Does a little height still scare you? Such a _brave_ man?" I ask, biting my lip. I raise my eyebrows slightly.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Tobias asks, laughing.

"Maybe." I say, overdoing my sultry voice on purpose. Tobias laughs again, his chest rumbling against mine. His laugh echoes through the empty pier.

"If I go up there right now, do you promise that we never have to go again?" Tobias asks.

"Yes." I nod. I don't think that I would ever want to come again, anyway. This is a sort of last hurrah for me, closing the chapter of my life that included initiation and war. I think this will help me see how far I've come.

"Okay." Tobias sighs.

"I love you!" I bounce a little on the balls of my feet, kissing his cheek. I take his arm, leading him up to the bottom of the wheel. I can feel his muscular arms through his jacket.

I pull my black gloves off, shoving them into my coat pocket, and grip the first ladder rung. The cold metal numbs my fingers as I take my first steps up.

I glance behind me when I'm far enough off the ground, making sure that Tobias is following me. He is.

"Why did I agree to this?" He calls as we climb higher, his voice unstable. He moves faster than I do, and soon his hands find the rungs that my feet leave.

I glance down. We're barely even halfway there, but the height is already making me feel alive with energy, every organ, vesicle, and muscle in my body singing at the same pitch.

"Just focus on me." I reply. I give myself the opposite advise, telling myself to focus on only the rung above me. The height is dizzying.

"I know that I've asked you this before, but are you even _human,_ Tris?" Tobias gulps.

I laugh shakily, remembering the first time he asked me that, almost a year ago. It was that night I realized that then it wasn't the height that made my body hum so loudly. It was him.

I glance over my shoulder. If I fall now, I will die. But I won't fall. I've lived through too much to die climbing a ladder.

The wind blows harder up here, colder. I grip the bars more tightly with my red hands.

"But-" Tobias gulps, "Honestly? How are you not scared?" He asks. His voice is strained.

"I suppose, in a way, I am a bit scared. But like you, I've learned to pretend my fears don't exist when I make decisions." I say. Being fearless is impossible. But acting in spite of fear isn't.

I reach the platform. The blunted ends of metal rods remind me of the lack of railings. I sit down and scoot to the end of the platform so that Tobias can sit. I swing my legs over the side of the platform where they are greeted with a gust of icy air. Like before, Tobias crouches and presses his back against he metal support. He takes deep breaths.

"Look where that strategy has gotten us." Tobias scoffs. I suppose, in a way, it has gotten us into some bad situations. I was afraid when I took Caleb's place, but I did it in spite of my fear. But then again, I could have never been with Tobias if I hadn't pushed my fear away.

"Yes. Look." I say gesturing between us. Tobias said it like a bad thing, but every action we've made thus far has brought us to this world, a world where we're together.

I am silent for a second, staring at Tobias. He looks back, his face relaxing a bit now that we're stationary.

"Tris, is there a reason we're up here?" He finally asks softly.

"I don't know." I reply truthfully. "I guess I thought that I would be able to see the change in the world, but you can't really. You can barely even see the city." I gesture outwards. We can see all of Navy Pier, but not much of the actual city. Large buildings block the view directly in front of us.

Tobias raises his eyebrows.

"I don't know." I repeat, my voice deflated. I honestly don't know what I was expecting, coming up here. I can't convey the particular emotion I feel to Tobias, but I guess it's a form of nostalgia.

We sit in silence for a minute, and when I look over at Tobias, I realize that he's moved to sit down fully. He doesn't move his legs over the edge, but sits stiffly.

"We should play paintball again sometime." I say, remembering winning last time. Tobias nods.

"I met Zeke playing paintball." He says. "I hated him." Tobias smiles just a bit, like he's remembering his own private joke. "He annoyed me to no end. It wasn't until much later that I started to like him." Tobias continues.

"How did you start to like him?" I ask. My breath is white against the black of night.

Tobias smiles. "He liked a girl that liked me. And I got him the girl, just to get rid of her." Tobias laughs. "And Zeke thought I did it for him. I guess we just sort of clicked after that. He was like a brother."

"He still can be." I say softly. Tobias doesn't have to use past tense when he speaks of Zeke.

"He hates me." Tobias says.

"He doesn't. It just takes time. He knows that Uriah's death wasn't your fault." I say, remembering how tense things were between Christina and me for a long time after Will.

Tobias doesn't reply, and I sink into my own thoughts. It's easy to feel much older at times like these, when you have so many memories to look back on.

My thoughts wander to old Abnegation traditions, ones that I haven't thought of in a long time. I don't speak of them, because I don't know if Tobias even participated in any of them. I can easily imagine Marcus keeping Tobias from the few holidays we enjoyed. I sink into a deep reverie, my mind wandering to its most painful area. My parents.

Before I know what I'm saying, I'm speaking to Tobias. "I remember that once, when I was home sick with strep throat, my mother broke a rule. It's one of the only times I remember her blatantly ignoring an Abnegation rule, but she did." I smile the tiniest bit. This is a happy memory, but underneath everything, there's an ever-present tint of sadness. "She brought me ice cream for my throat. I had never had it before." I pause, remembering how the thrill of breaking a rule was even sweater than the taste of the ice cream. "And we shared it. I remember it so well, the little glint in her eyes as she brought it out." My voice drifts off.

My stomach twists into a knot. Why can't memories be as happy as the moment we lived them?

With that, we launch into a string of memories. Tobias tells me about his initiation, and his first two years in Dauntless. He shies away from all things Abnegation, except little things about his mother. We talk about people who died, but not in a particularly sad way. It's poignant to speak of them, but for the first time in a long time, I feel as if we're not living in the past. We're just remembering it. There's a significant difference that I think both of us can feel.

The moon rises farther into the sky, and I lean closer to Tobias. He's still stiff, but he's relaxed more. He puts his arms around my shoulder, his long fingers wrapping around my forearm.

We fall silent again, and I stare up at the black clouds above me. Clouds at night have always interested me, especially ones like these. In the daylight they would be normal clouds, but at night they turn into creatures of intrigue and mystery. They're heavy with the darkness of the sky above them, the only break in the murky sky being the patch of moonlight.

"Tris?" Tobias asks.

I nod. My head is close enough to his that he can feel my movement, even if he isn't looking at me.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if there hadn't been a war?" He asks.

"All the time." I say. It's true. How could I not? My parents would be alive. I would still be in a faction, and who knows that I would be doing as a job. Maybe I would be training initiates right now.

"I try not to think about it. It's hard to know what it would be like, what _I _would be like." Tobias says. His voice isn't particularly quiet, but it's soothing.

"I know that I would still be with you." I say. I can imagine a lot about where I would be right now if there hadn't been a war, but I can't imagine any scenario without Tobias.

"I know that, too." Tobias agrees.

I turn and kiss him, pressing my cold lips to his warm ones. I put my hand on his cheek. I can't feel his stubble, but I know that it's there. I can only feel the strength of his jaw and the warmth of his lips.

It isn't a particularly hungry kiss, mostly because of our position on the wheel. There isn't any space to kiss him any more.

Nonetheless, Tobias holds me tighter. Surprised, I put my hands on his chest and push back lightly.

As if remembering how high up we are, and his fear of heights, Tobias also pulls back. But he doesn't let go of my waist, and his face is still close to mine.

Tobias's POV

I search through Tris's eyes, overwhelmed with an emotion I can't place. It overcomes my body, tightening my chest and making it hard for me to breath. It isn't the height; I barely notice it in this moment. It's _her. _

I love her so much.

"Tobias?" Tris asks, her face worried. Her hand, covered in her glove, rests lightly on my chest.

Words are tumbling out of my mouth, unplanned, before I can stop them.

"Tris, will you marry me?" I ask.


	8. Flames

Tobias's POV

I search through her eyes, looking for a hint of the emotions running through her mind. I come up empty handed. Her small hands are clenched into tight fists, the kind that leave marks on the palms of your hand, and her eyes flit around, but somehow maintain eye contact with me. She looks almost scared, which makes me scared. An entire minute of silence passes, the tension in the air definitive enough to cut with a knife.

"Tris?" I finally ask.

She takes in a sharp breath, her eyes shooting around for a second before finding mine again. She says nothing. Her silence sends a wave of pain and regret through my heart. I'm not regretful that I proposed to her, because I _do_ want to marry her. I'm regretful that I did it in this way, springing it on her with no prior discussion. I'm regretful that I didn't realize how much I want to marry her sooner than this.

"Tris, are you going to speak?" I ask. My voice is more resigned than I want it to be. It's masking the emotions churning inside of me, but I don't want to act this way to Tris.

"Tobias….." She says, her voice trailing off. Her breath is white against the night, against the small space between out bodies. "I," she pauses, "I don't know what to say."

My face falls, and she suddenly looks as young as she actually is. She's only seventeen, a detail that I tend to forget. She's so strong, so passionate, that I tend to forget that she's even a teenager. I remember that now, and another wave of pain shoots through me. How could I have messed things up so easily, with just one slip up of my words?

"Say anything." I whisper. I begin to put my hand up to her cheek, but pull back when she moves her head the slightest bit. She doesn't want me to touch her, and for a second, an awful thought runs through my head. What if she doesn't love me? What if that's why she isn't speaking?

"I'm too young." She finally says. Her voice is soft, but not weak.

"Why?" I ask, yet again allowing my words to go unfiltered. "You've lived through a war, and even before that, initiation. I don't think that you can be classified as young." I say, trying to amend my question.

She instantly straightens, hardening her face into a mask that she used to wear when she was fighting, one that covered her true emotions. Another wave of pain, and I know that I've said the wrong thing. "It isn't just about that." She says. Her voice is strained and cold.

"Than what's it about?" I ask, trying to grasp what she's saying.

"It's about…." She falls silent again. "It's about the fact that-" Her eyes suddenly get wide, and she lets out a tiny gasp. "Tobias! The Erudite headquarters!" She says.

I am at a loss for a moment, until I turn around to see what her eyes are so obviously focused on. Just to the south of the Ferris wheel, in her direct view, is a plume of smoke rising against the black clouds. The bottom emanates a soft glow, one that can only come from one thing at this time of night; fire. The Erudite headquarters are on fire, and not a small one either.

My face goes slack for a second, but I instantly regain my composure. I quickly, or as quickly as I can move in spite of my fear, turn around. I slide off the ramp we sit on and begin to climb down the ladder rapidly.

Tris follows suit, the importance of our former conversation disappearing in the urgency of the moment.

I move rapidly, my cold fingers barely grasping each bar before I move onto the next one. I almost forget how high up we are. Almost.

Tris lets out a soft shriek as her fingers slip of a bar, and I feel as if I'm struck by lightening. She dangles precariously from her bar, and I instantly move back up, pushing gently on her hip. She finds her grasp on the bar again, and I begin to move again.

"Thanks." She says brusquely. I don't know if it's because of the urgency of the moment, or because of our prior conversation.

We reach the bottom quickly, jumping off from a couple feet. I help Tris down, and we walk briskly through the pier. There is no question as to where we're going. The streets are empty, and all signs of nightlife have disappeared once we enter the city. People, the memories of war still fresh in their minds, have either retreated into their homes or, less likely, made their way to the fire.

"Who do you think started it?" Tris asks, taking long, quick steps to match my stride. Her voice is breathy.

"Could have been an accident." I reply, taking a sharp left.

"Yes, it could have." She says, her voice dismissive. "But it wasn't. Accidents don't grow that big."

I nod, not responding. I can see the glow of the fire from a block away, and a black mass of people blocking the streets.

We reach the mass, pushing and shoving to get to the front of the roped off area. The entire Erudite headquarters is ablaze with red flames, the burning tendrils whipping from windows. There are hisses and cracks as the infrastructure begins to break apart, making the fire louder than you would expect. This fire is more than just what they taught us in school. It isn't just energy, it's alive, and it's massive. It's a beast the lives and breathes and roars to show everything that it isn't something to be tampered with. It's unforgiving, and it's beautiful, and it's _scary._

Nothing is going to survive this. The headquarters was a library. Once it was lit, there was no stopping it. There are barely even enough firefighters to contain the flames; we didn't used to have any fires like this. The only thing they can hope to do is to stop the fire from spreading, not stop it from burning. This fire will have to burn itself out.

A dark figure paces on the other side of the rope, occasionally yelling things at the firefighters. I grab the persons arm as he passes me again, pulling on it to make him look at me.

"What?" The man spits out rancorously. "Tobias!" He then exclaims, his face softening. Zeke. "Come on," he says, lifting up the rope for us to walk under. It makes sense that he would be here; he recently took over all policing responsibilities for the city.

I stiffen. Zeke and I still haven't gone back to normal, and all of our limited interactions have been tense and restrained.

He leads us beyond the crowd, and as close as we can get to the fire without being in the firemen's way. We stand about a hundred yards away, watching an entire faction's headquarters burn to the ground.

"What happened?" Tris finally asks.

"We don't know. But it wasn't an accident." Zeke says. His voice is solemn. "At least no one was inside. It's late, and they don't live at the headquarters."

I take my hand out of my pocket and lace my fingers through Tris's. I squeeze gently, and she responds by softly squeezing back. Despite what's going on, I can always find comfort and security with Tris.

"Who would do such a thing?" Tris asks. I almost laugh at how innocent she sounds, but hold back. I know that she would like to believe that the world is now perfectly at peace, that all evil has been eradicated, but that isn't the case.

"Could have been anyone." Zeke says. He doesn't turn to look at us, but instead keeps his eyes focused on the blaze. The fire dances in his eyes, making him look dazed and hypnotized. The fire is mesmerizing.

"But _why?"_ Tris asks.

"A lot of people still hate the Erudite." I say, shrugging ever so slightly. "People blame them for the war, for the loss of factions. People have an amazing capacity for animosity."

"I thought this was over." Tris says softly, and my heart breaks ever so slightly. I know that Tris is not weak, and I know that she is aware of the world we live in, but it still hurts to hear her so optimistic. I learned when I was very young that optimism is a short-term oasis, and when truth strikes, it strikes hard.

"This is never going to be over. We just have to learn how to fight the things that conspire against us better." Zeke says. "We have to learn to prepare for these things, to stop them before they happen. We can't afford things like this, not when we're still so volatile."

"What are you going to do about this?" Tris asks, gesturing to the building. The roof collapses in, firing embers up into the air. Parts of the crowd shriek, and many turn around and walk away. This isn't a safe place to be.

"What do you mean? The firefighters are doing all in their power." Zeke says.

"I mean, to figure out _who _did this." Tris says. She sounds exasperated, but even more than that, angry. Her oasis is crashing.

"We won't be able to do anything to figure out who did it until we can get in the wreckage." Zeke says. I'm surprised by how blasé his voice sounds, how unsurprised he is. I am hit with a painful reality. Zeke knew this was going to happen, yet somehow it still did.

"You knew this was coming." I say, turning to face him. Tris's anger is infectious, making my own anger boil over.

"Yes." He says slowly, testing the waters of my emotions.

I glare at him, turning back to face the building again. I can't stand how little he's reacting to this, how dulled he seams.

"We didn't know that _this_ specifically was coming," Zeke gestures to the building, "but we knew something was coming. People want something to blame for the war, and the Erudite is the easiest target."

I glower at him, and he stares back. He cocks his head ever so slightly, daring me to defy him or say something against him. I don't; I can't. This isn't his fault.

For the twice time this night, I am overwhelmed with emotion, but this time on the opposite side of the spectrum from love. Hatred is filling every vein in my body, making me feel invincible, but in the worst way. My hatred isn't directed at Zeke, but instead at the situation. All I want is to live in peace, and I'm not naïve enough to believe that such a peaceful world exists, but I think that I deserve a life that isn't plagued by violence. I think that _Tris_ deserves that life. I suppose that my oasis is crashing too.

I pull on Tris's arm, taking her away from the wreckage and away from Zeke's unconcerned attitude. "We don't have to watch this." I say, my voice as angry as the fire that consumes me. I don't need to watch this when there isn't anything we can do, and we've already lived through enough. Tris does not protest.

We push past the crowds and into the abandoned streets. I pull Tris along quickly, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from the flame as possible. Tonight has been a problematic night.

"Tobias, slow down!" I muddled voice interrupts my trance of getting away. Tris.

I realize that I'm dragging her along, not walking with her, and holding her arm tighter than I should. I loosen up and immediately apologize.

"It's fine." She says.

We begin to walk again, slower this time. We've only walked another block when Tris speaks again. "Tobias." She says, quietly, urgently. She suddenly pulls me into a side alley, pressing me against the wall. She presses a finger to my lips, silencing me.

I follow her eyes across the streets, to an opposite alley, where a man steps out from the shadows. I don't think that he sees us. He wears a black trench coat, and his dark shadow stretches down the empty street. This part of the city is still too damaged to be occupied, leaving me to wonder what this man is doing here.

He stands in the center of the street, staring at nothing in particular. I can't see his face in the dark. I stiffen, and shrug even further against the wall, taking Tris with me. Something about this man is particularly unsettling.

The man suddenly reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small cylindrical object. A tiny flame bounces out of the top of it, identifying it as a lighter.

Tris lets out a tiny gasp, barely audible, and the man shoves the lighter back into his pocket. I sink as far as I can into the shadows, pressing Tris's small body against my own and willing for him not to see us.

He turns his head slowly to the ally, and it is my turn to gasp.

Because the man in the street is Marcus.

**A/N Don't worry, that wasn't the end of wedding discussion. And reviews are greatly appreciated!**

**dftba- Ella**


	9. The Same

**The Same**

Tobias's POV

When I wake up, Tris's body is curled against my own. My arm is draped along the arch of her back, and her head is nuzzled against my side. I brush a strand of hair softly from her face. She looks so peaceful, so serene.

For a moment, I feel as she looks. That's the beautiful thing about waking up. For one blissful second, one moment of ecstasy, you forget the demons that plague you. Whether its small demons, or monsters of preposterous size, for one moment, you forget it all, and everything inside of you is at peace.

But moments so perfect are always, _always_, interrupted by reality.

My memories of the night before come flooding back, starting with the fire and moving backwards to my proposal. I feel as if a hand is pressing against the back of my chest, making my heart feel tight, as I remember what Tris said. She said no. She really did, and despite the fact that I can feel her stomach move against my side with her every breath, I know that things aren't okay between us.

Then, like being thrown against a brick wall, I remember seeing my father. The way he looked stepping towards the alley, how if he had taken just one more step, he would have seen us. How I know, without a shadow of doubt, that my father started the fire.

With that thought, I carefully pick my arm up off of Tris. I gently slide out of bed, tucking the covers back in around her. I dress quickly and quietly, not wanting to wake her when she looks so serene.

It's a Sunday, and most of the city is still asleep as I step onto the street, but there's still a small hum in the air as people begin to wake up and start their days. The sun is just above the horizon, and in the distance, I can still see a thin line of smoke from the general area of the Erudite headquarters. The air is just a bit too cold, the kind of early morning chill that will wear off as the day goes on, but for the time being will remain as an annoying remainder that winter hasn't quiet left yet.

I make it to my destination, the Abnegation sector, quickly. The Abnegation houses were filled the fastest after the gates were opened, mostly because they're the only livable houses in the city. All the other factions used apartments, not housing.

The Abnegation streets used to be bland and boring, just row after row of concrete blocks and little black mailboxes, but now the sector is entirely transformed into an inviting place, one that beckons mothers and fathers and little children, begging them to come and plant flowers and ride bicycles. Some of the houses are even painted, cheery yellows to match the light blue flowers in the front yards. There is already a mother pushing a robbing egg blue stroller down the street, nodding and smiling at me as we pass each other. It is all so normal looking, so fitted, as if war never even touched this little part of the city.

There is only one house in the entire sector with no flowers, no signs of inhabitance. It is the same concrete block from before the war, the exact same as when the Abnegation lived here. It's my old house.

I know that Marcus lives here. I looked him up a couple months ago, not because I had plans to find him, but simply because I wanted to know if he was still in the city.

I knock on the door, taking deep breathes to lower my blood pressure. I can hear him move around in the house, and it instantly makes me angry. His _existence_ makes me angry.

The door opens a couple inches, just enough for me to see Marcus's eyes staring at me from behind the door. He looks the exact same as before, which, for some reason, annoys me too. Everything else has changed, yet he seems to be the exact same.

"Tobias," he says, his voice placid. He pulls the door open just a bit more. I stiffen even further, seeing his black jacket hanging on a hook just inside the door. This is why I'm here. I'm here because he burned the Erudite headquarters. Not because I hate him, though I do, but because I want this city to survive. I want it to survive for Tris, who gave up so much so that it could. He will not ruin this, and I need him to know that. I am overwhelmed with such hatred for him, such a strong emotion that I can't keep inside of me. I need him _know._

I slam my palm against the door, opening it all the way. I push it closed behind me as I step into the dark house, grabbing a fistful of Marcus's grey collar and slamming him against the foyer wall. He looks scared for a second, a sliver of fear in his eyes as he glances down at the muscles in my arms. He should be scared. I'm not a child anymore, and I'm not scared of him.

"_You_." I snarl, feeling the muscles in my arms grow even tighter.

The fear in his eyes is fleeting, and he instantly narrows his eyes. "That's not any way to greet your father." He says, his voice as cold as ice.

"Good thing you aren't my father." I hiss, pushing him farther against the wall.

"Have we not done this already? Have we not already covered the hatred between us?" Marcus asks. His voice is tighter, not because of his doing, but because my knuckles are pressing against his throat, making it difficult for him to speak.

"Oh yes, I've told you how much I despise you." I say, not letting my grip up even the slightest bit. This little bit of pain for him is nothing compared to what I've dealt with. "But I'm not here for myself this time." I hiss. The last time I hurt Marcus was in front of the other Dauntless, after the truth serum. I did it to prove that I wasn't a coward. I'm not here for myself this time; I'm here because of the pain in Tris's eyes last night when she looked at the fire, because I never want to see her like that again.

He glares at me, pressing his body against mine in a futile attempt to get away from my grasp. I let go, taking a step back. I don't want to be as cruel as he was, to hold on much longer than necessary. Marcus instantly loosens, and then stiffens again. He stands with his hands in fists at his side, but makes no move towards me. "What did I do this time?" He asks, his voice tired and exasperated.

"Does a fire ring any bells? The Erudite compound?" I ask. Sarcasm drips from my every syllable.

"Why, no. Not at all." Marcus cocks his head at me, and it takes every ounce of my strength to not kill him, right here, right now. His voice is so obviously feigning ignorance, so clearly lying. It's disgusting.

"Things will be a lot easier if we both agree to stop lying." I say, holding back to keep from yelling.

"Who says I'm lying?" Marcus asks.

"Don't play games with me, Marcus." I warn forcefully, taking a step forward. He slinks back against he wall.

"You can't prove anything." He says. His voice is defiant, bratty. It's disgusting, once again sending a sharp wave of hatred through my body.

He smirks again, and it pushes me over the edge. I pull my fist back and slam it against his face.

He falls to the ground, and blood instantly begins to stream out of his nose. He looks up at me in disbelieve, struggling to get up off the ground. I don't allow him up further than a couple of inches before I press my boot against his collarbone, forcing him back down. I don't hesitate to press hard, to force the breath out of him. He stares up at me, his eyes bulging out of their socket, and once again fear flickers in his eyes.

"You listen to me, and you listen _closely_" I command, leaning down and glaring at him. "I may not have evidence right now, but I'm going to get evidence. Because I _know_ that you started that fire, and I'm fucking _sick_ of you being around." I hiss. "You have committed crime after crime, but _somehow_ you're still here. And I'm sick of that!" I growl, pressing my foot even farther into his chest. "Unlike you, I have people I love, and love me, and you don't deserve the chance to ruin the lives that we have." I continue. "So if you have _any_ doubt in your mind that you're going to get away with this, let it go now. Because you _aren't_ getting away this time." I finish and pick my foot up off his chest.

He takes pitiful gulps of air and lets out a choked sound, which fails to bring any empathy out of me. He doesn't deserve any emotion but hate. I pull open the door and step out halfway before I turn back around to look at him. He glares up at me, still gasping for air.

"I know that you think that you're better, but we aren't any different." He says, his voice breathy and weak. "You don't see it, but I do. We're the same."

I don't turn around to look at him, because I can't bear the truth of his words. Instead, I close the door behind me and walk away. I make it through the entire Abnegation sector, and just into the old Factionless sector, before all my tenacity breaks.

I take a turn into a crumbling building and sink against the wall just inside the doorway. All the glass of the windows is broken on the ground, and most of the ceiling is missing, letting light stream into the shell of a building.

Tears begin to stream silently down my face as Marcus's words echo through my head. _We're the same. We're the same. We're the same._

I can't let his words go, because some part of me believes him. Honestly, how are we different? How is me using my physical strength over him today any different than what he used to do to me? And how do I know that one day I won't turn into him completely? That I won't let power get to my head? That I won't corrupt like him? And if I do become like him, how could I stop it? I don't want to hurt Tris. But if I'm the same as him, how could I not?

When I stood over him, when I saw the glimmer of fear in his eyes, I felt _powerful._ So powerful, as if I could just break him. Easily, too. If I had just pressed a bit harder, than he would be dead. I have that power within me. And I don't like it, because, deep down, in a sickening, disgusting way, having all that power made me feel _good. _Because deep down, I understand why Marcus did all the things that he did.

I know that my father is a sickening person. And I know what he has done, and what he may do in the future. I know my father, and I know that I am not him, and that I don't want to be him. But I'm still scared. Because deep down, somewhere far within me, I really am just like him.

* * *

**A/N** Theo James thinks that you should review, because I'm insanely bored and on break!

dftba- ella


	10. Jobs

**A/N **This is a super short chapter because I tried to wedge it onto the end of the last chapter, but that didn't work, so I tried to put it in with the next one, and that didn't work either. So this is a sort of Happy Thanksgiving half chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

Tris's POV

"Tris!" A voice interrupts my dreams. It reaches into my thoughts like a hand, grabbing me and pulling me up to the surface of reality.

"Mmmmmm?" I groan, pulling my pillow over my head. "Go away, Tobias." I murmur.

"Trissy," a voice coos. It isn't Tobias, I know that. Tobias never calls me Trissy, and the voice is _extremely_ close to my ear, so I can hear that it isn't Tobias.

The fact that someone is in my bed, and I don't know who they are, is enough for me to open my eyes up and move the pillow off my head.

"S'bout time!" Zeke says. He sits on the edge of my bed, making the entire other side of the bed slope down to his weight. "You, my friend, are impossible to wake up." He says while sliding onto the bed. He props his feet, boots still on, on Tobias's pillow and rests with his back propped against the bed frame at the foot of the bed.

"How'd y'get in 'ere?" I ask. My words slur through my tired voice.

"Well, I rang the bell a thousand times, but you didn't answer. So I _might_ have jimmied the lock." Zeke shrugs as if nothing about this situation is even remotely weird, which strangely makes me feel more relaxed. Zeke has that effect on people, making them feel more relaxed. He gains more and more of those little things about him back every day. Slowly, but surely, Zeke is returning to us.

"Where's Tobias?" I ask through a yawn.

"How should I know?" Zeke shrugs again. I nod. Sometimes Tobias takes early morning walks.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

Zeke sits up a bit farther, his face becoming more serious. "Tris, do you have a job yet?" He asks.

"Not yet." I reply, moving to sit up as well.

"Good, because I need your help." Zeke says. I instantly grow suspicious.

"Doing what?" I ask.

"I was put in charge of making a special task force, and I want you to be on it." Zeke smiles at me, and then grows more somber. "We both saw last night that our city isn't as safe as we wish it were. There are people beyond normal crime that want this city to fail. It will be our job to identify these people and stop them." Zeke explains.

"I can't do that." I say softly.

"And why not?" Zeke raises his eyebrows.

I pause. It's hard to put into words what I want to say. "I don't like fighting, not after the war." I say, not conveying even a fraction of what I mean. I don't like how powerful I feel when I hold a gun, and I don't like what they do to people. I killed Will. I don't even want the ability to do that, the chance.

"I understand, I really do." Zeke pauses. "Fighting is what caused the death of a lot of the people you love, and I understand that you would want to avoid it. Fighting kills people, right?" Zeke asks rhetorically, speaking through my point of view "But, Tris, this is different. You want to protect the people that you love, right?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Of course." I sigh, knowing where he's going.

"Okay, well this job will protect them. This city is a fragile, struggling little thing right now. We can't afford another incident like last night. So if you want this city to survive, and you want to protect the people you love, then you'll do this job." He says, swinging his legs off the bed and walking towards the bedroom door.

I open my mouth, but Zeke speaks before I can, turning around to look at me. "Don't reply now." He holds his hands up. "Just think about it. Think about the people you love, and think about what you're willing to do to protect them." He says.

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me confused and unsure of everything I thought I knew.

* * *

A/N Reviews are greatly appreciated!

dftba- Ella


	11. The Fear

Tobias walks in only seconds after Zeke leaves, before I've even had a chance to collect my thoughts. He pauses at the door, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms. He looks at me, his face a mix of emotions I cannot decipher.

"Hey." I say quietly, reluctantly pulling my tired body away from the warmth and protection of the bed and walking towards Tobias. I stand on the tips of my toes to lightly kiss his cheek. He stands still, like a man of stone, before returning the gesture and wrapping his arms tensely around me.

"Hello." He says stiffly.

I pull back, not wanting to stretch out the awkwardness, and step into the main room, blinking a couple of times as my eyes adjust to the bright light of the morning. Little black and dark purple spots dance before my eyes.

I take a seat on the white couch, crisscrossing my legs and pulling a throw pillow onto my lap. I cross my arms around it like a shield.

Tobias takes a seat on the chair to the left of me, still acting stony and reserved, which only makes this all the more difficult.

"So." I say, clenching a handful of the pillow into my fists.

"So." Tobias says.

"We have a lot to talk about." I say, hoping that he'll be the one to begin.

"That we do." Tobias agrees, nodding distantly. He doesn't look at me, but instead focuses on our view of the city.

We sit in silence for a full minute as I try to formulate my thoughts, figure out what exactly I'm supposed to say. "You know that I love you, right?" I finally ask, deciding to preface the conversation so that Tobias has no doubts about this simple fact.

"Of course I know that. That's the whole reason that this is so confusing. If you love me, why can't we get married?" Tobias asks. His voice is stubborn, and he still doesn't look at me.

I am silent for another minute. The way that he sees things makes such perfect sense- if I love him, why shouldn't I marry him?- but the fact is that sometimes your feelings _don't_ make sense, and while Tobias always looks at things from logical, correct perspectives, sometimes that doesn't work. Life is a whole lot more than two plus two equaling four, because in life there are a lot more variables, variables that mess up the whole equation.

"It's not about the _love_." I say. "There's more to it than that."

Tobias turns and looks at me sharply, opening his mouth as if he's going to say something, but instead returns to looking straight forward, deciding against whatever he was going to say. I can see his jaw tighten as he responds. "I don't _get_ it. I love you, and you love me. What else matters? Isn't that what marriage means? Isn't it a promise? That we love each other, and we always will? Haven't we already made that promise to each other? Can't we just make it official?" Tobias asks, turning to look at me with his questions, his voice changing ever so slightly from being stiff and reserved to having the slightest resonance of passion.

"Marriage is so much more than that-" I begin, but Tobias cuts me off.

"_What else?_ What else could _possibly_ matter?" He asks, his voice loud, but not angry. His eyebrows are furrowed together, and his forearms are taut.

"I don't want this to end!" I lash out, gesturing between the two of us before pulling my pillow tight against my chest. "I love you now, and I know that I always will, but we have this _amazing_ thing going, and I don't want that to end!"

"I don't understand." Tobias says quietly. "How would marriage end anything?"

"I _know_ that you don't understand, which is what makes this so god damn difficult!" I say frustratedly. I take a deep breath before I continue. "I just…..just," I falter for words. "Right now, nothing is perfect, but everything is _right._ Every kiss we share is real and beautiful and as close to flawless as I think it'll ever get, and I don't want to change that. We share all these wonderful moments all the time, but I can't help but feel that these moments have a limit, and I don't want to ever reach that limit." I say, leaning forward and staring at Tobias, trying to see if I'm getting through, despite the fact that I recognize that my words make no sense. He looks at me, taking deep, slow, quiet breaths and wearing a look on his face that can only be described as sad. "I don't want _this_," I gesture between us, "to run out. And honestly, I'm just scared." I whisper.

"How could this ever run out?" Tobias asks, standing up from his chair and coming to sit beside me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls my legs onto his lap, his entire demeanor changing. "How could our love _ever_ run out?"

"Everything good ends." I whisper and in that moment realizing that my fears and issues with the past are seeping into the present. I'm scared to marry Tobias because everything I've ever loved, everything that has ever mattered to me, has at some point disappeared. My parents. Caleb. Uriah. Even the factions. While I now know that the factions were wrong, I did love them.

"Not everything." Tobias says softly. "Some things go away, but they don't end. Your parents may be gone, but you still love them, right?" Tobias asks, and I guess that he too has realized that the root of my problem stretches beyond my excuses.

"Of course I love them." I admit, knowing that he's right, but even him being right doesn't change my fear. The love we share will never end, but it may go away. And I don't want to make another attachment just to have it broken once more.

"So, Tris, will you please marry me? Please? If I promise that this will never end, that the passion will always be there, will you _please_ marry me?" He asks, his voice so hopeful that it hurts.

"Tobias, I just can't." I whisper. I know that my fear is irrational, and I know that I should say yes, and that I'm being awful, but I can't bring myself into another position that will only hurt me.

Tobias's face falls, and I am flooded with guilt. I expect him to press me further, but he doesn't. "Okay." He whispers, sad nuances filling his one simple word. "But, Tris, you have to know that I'm dying over here. I'm breaking a little bit with every day that we aren't married. And I want you to know that I'm going to propose you _every _single day until we're married. I'm not going to give up. Is that okay?" He asks.

"Sure." I respond, a lump rising in my throat. I hate to hurt Tobias like this.

"And Tris, can you just do one thing for me?" Tobias asks, pulling me fully onto his lap.

I nod.

"Will you promise me that one day, not today, not tomorrow, and not for another year, if that's the way you want it, but _one day, _we'll get married?" Tobias asks, his voice pleading.

"I promise." I nod, forcing a tiny smile onto my face.

"Alright." Tobias accepts that this is as far as he'll make it tonight.

"Thank you." I reply, and without realizing it, loosen in his arms. I was expecting that to be a lot more painful, and while it hurt, there was minimal yelling, at least for the two of us.

"Tris, can I ask just _one more_ thing?" Tobias asks, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. His fingers brush along my back as he plays with the ends of my hair.

"Sure?" I say tentatively.

"Kiss me?" Tobias pulls me closer, his dark eyes inches from mine.

"I could never say no to that." I grin, snaking my arms around his neck and pulling him to me, fitting his lips to mine.

And while his lips against mine fill me with an emotion that can only be described as a thirst for more, and his fingers in my hair send shivers through my body, and the feeling of his muscles against my back make me feel as if I'm on the moon, it only enforces my fear.

I don't ever want this to end. I don't want to ever lose this. To lose _him._

And that's what's so scary.


	12. It Burns

A/N Sorry for the long time with no update. I was focusing on my other story, Dauntless Romance, which you should go check out if you like this story. It has fifty something chapters, so if you want something to hold you over to the next update, that would be a good choice :) I also have four The Fault In Our Stars fanfics, if you've read that book. The song is Touch by Daughter for the part from Tris's POV, but the Tobias's POV is Still by Daughter.

* * *

Tris's POV

There are twenty of us, but the only sound is our feet against the rock bottom of the tunnel that leads to the Pit. It is the very same tunnel that almost all of us walked through on our first day of initiation, the day that we chose to be Dauntless. We are almost all former Dauntless, all dressed in black, but not for the sake of Dauntless. This is different. Tobias grips my hand, a look of pain etched across his face, one that matches everyone else's.

This is Uriah's funeral.

Zeke leads the group, his shoulders hunched in pain. He pauses before we enter the Pit, his body tiny compared to the tremendous cavern behind him. He takes a deep breath and turns to face us. He smiles painfully.

"I don't think that any of us ever could truly call ourselves Dauntless. We wore black, we pretended to be brave, we made stupid choices and called it dauntless, but none of us were truly Dauntless in all that it was meant to be. Uriah was." Zeke says. His voice falters over Uriah's name, a choked and painful sound coming out of his throat. "That isn't to say he was perfect, or he always made the right choices, or that he didn't have fears. It is only to say that Uriah was _brave_ in the proper way. He was an amazing person. He was all that I want to be. He was my brother, and I love him." Zeke finishes, each word clearly a struggle for him to say.

I clench my jaw as he speaks, a constricted feeling wrapping around my chest, tightening every time a different memory of Uriah finds it's way into my mind. Tobias's hand squeezes mine tightly, but I barely feel it. I can hear Christina softly crying beside me, little shutters raking through her body.

Zeke turns back around and walks into the poorly lit Pit. The glass ceiling doesn't provide it's usual light, thick grey clouds blocking any sunlight from reaching the the Pit.

We all follow him to the very center of the Pit, where a huge pyramid of wood has been stacked up on the cold floor. We form a oblong circle around the pyramid, about twenty feet away. I take in a sharp breath as Uriah's mother, who stands diagonal from me in the circle, begins to sob. Her cries echo through the Pit, bouncing off the walls and trapping us in her prison of pain.

Zeke steps forward, his face twisted in pain, and drops a lit match onto the wood. It catches almost instantly, igniting a blaze that warms me from this far back. "This fire represents Uriah. It will burn out, but while it burns, it is greater than all of us will ever be." Zeke calls out, his voice more powerful when he yells than it was before.

Everyone's eyes fixate on the fire, hypnotized by the flames, but I don't think anyone is truly seeing the fire. Instead they are remembering Uriah. We are all together in this room, but at the same time we are alone in our own world of pain.

I remember the train ride back to the Dauntless compound after capture the flag. It was the first time I had tasted what being Dauntless might be like. The loud laughter and bold actions of the night, finished off surrounded by friends, tired but utterly content. Uriah was the one who gave me that taste. He had squirted the paintball at me, and I had smeared some of it across his face. He had accidentally sprayed his mouth with the paint. I didn't know what all that those simple actions would lead to, but I wish that I had. Maybe I would have appreciated it more.

A single word slips out of my mouth and into the silence. "Thank you." You could use a thousand words to describe a person, but in the end none of it will matter. When they're gone all they leave is a trail of memories and emotions. When they're gone all you can do is thank them for all that they gave you.

Zeke looks at me from across the fire, his face breaking, his strength disappearing. He repeats me, louder. "Thank you."

Quietly, solemnly and only once, the rest of the circle quietly says thank you. Not an echo, because it isn't all at once, but everyone says it.

And as quickly as it began, it's over. People begin to turn and walk towards the stairs to the glass building above, leaving to catch the train. It wasn't a traditional funeral at all, but I feel that Uriah would have liked it. He always loved the Pit.

As they walk away, I keep my eyes focused on the flames. They're a good representation of Uriah. As they dance before my eyes, the thought I've been trying to push away slips into my mind. It's a simple fact that everyone seems to ignore; Uriah fought bravely for what he believed in his entire life, but after willingly entering numerous dangerous situations in the name of what he believed, he died for something so _stupid._

He died because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. An entire life of being Dauntless, of being devoted and prepared for the one moment he would show how brave he could truly be, and yet when the end of all the struggle was just around the corner, salvation so near that you could taste it on your tongue, he died_._

It makes me angry, and my chest constricts like suddenly there isn't enough air in the world. It makes me shudder, taking hold of me and making it difficult to breath. I break my eyes away from the fire, afraid of what might happen if I watch it for any longer.

I expect to see Tobias beside me in the empty Pit, but he isn't. I don't know where he went. I didn't even see him beside me during the service; I wasn't paying attention. I twist in a circle, but I don't see him at all. I suppose he got caught up in the crowd as it left, and he must already be on the train on his way home.

I should probably leave too before it gets dark, but I can't bring myself to leave the fire alone, to leave what is supposed to represent Uriah alone in this empty shell, a product of a lost world.

Instead, I sit down a distance from the fire and watch it. I'll stay here until it burns out in the morning. I won't leave it alone.

I'll be here for this part of Uriah, a part of him for all the pain and emotions surrounding it, until the last flame has died out on the bed of ash.

* * *

Tobias's POV

"Thank you." I hear a small voice whisper right beside me. The two words catch like fire, thanking Uriah for all that he gave.

Guilt crushes down on me, suffocating me in a blanket of hatred. They shouldn't have to thank him; he should still be alive. There is a fire twenty feet away from me, but I'm still drowning in hatred for myself.

I killed him. And here I stand, alive, as all who love him mourn, unable to do anything to fix my actions.

I twist around and turn my back to the pain and hurt, walking to the first hallway I see. I don't think anyone sees me. I can't stay there any longer; I have no right to be there. I could have prevented this. I can't mourn at the result of my own actions. I can't stand there and pretend that all of this isn't my fault.

I stumble through the walkway until I reach the end where I sink to the ground and rest my head against the rock. The guilt and pain fills me like rain in a cup, filling until it overflows. I begin to shudder, my fists shaking in agony.

I open my mouth and scream, trying anything to push this feeling out of my body. It doesn't work. I scream, and cold tears begin to pour down my cheeks. My scream echoes through the hallway long past the time my mouth closes, and I slam my head back against the rock.

I killed him.

And I can't do anything about it.

I pull my knees to my chest and rest my head against them, channeling all that I can in an attempt to forget what I did to Uriah. I know that forgetting is wrong, and disrespectful, and _weak_, but if I don't, I don't know what I'll do. I've already broken. I don't know what else I have left to do, any other choice. I am too weak to remember any longer.

I try to unmake the world, to make everything inside of me black and silent and uninhabited. I try to return to a time before I ever met Uriah, to a time when my mind was nothing more than blank, to live in the vacuous uncreated space before I ever opened my eyes.

It is the sound of footsteps that prevent me from my impossible task.

I open my eyes and lift my head, turning to the left where Zeke walks towards me. His eyes are cold, clearly still holding the pain they did earlier, but now there's a lot more hate as well_._ He glares at me as he reaches me, his entire body tense. He stares down at me, his lips turned into a disgusted frown. "You." He spits out.

"Zeke-" I begin, not knowing what I'm going to say other than that I'm sorry, which has never, and will never be enough.

"Shut up!" Zeke yells, his voice echoing down the abandoned hallway. "_You_, you despicable human." He snarls. "You killed my brother, and you don't even have the_ decency_ to stay through his funeral." He says, his voice colder than I've ever heard it.

"I know." I shake my head rapidly back and forth, tears beginning to push their ways out of the corner of my eyes.

"NO!" Zeke roars. I shudder. "You don't know! If you knew, you would have stayed!"

"What can I do to fix this?" I ask weekly, knowing that there will never be an answer.

"What can you do?" Zeke hisses incredulously. "What can you _do?_ I don't know! Can you bring my brother back from the dead?" Zeke yells, taking a step closer to me. "Can you do that?" He shouts, slamming his foot into my side. His face contorts in anger and pain, and he continues to yell, but there are tears pouring down his face. "Can you bring him back?" He screams, kicking me again with no force held back.

I let out a choked sound as his foot hits me, no matter how hard I try to hold it back.

"Did that hurt?" Zeke snarls, kicking my again. "Did it hurt like when you killed my brother? Did it?" He screams, kicking me over and over and over.

I don't try to stop him. I deserve it. I deserve to be kicked and punched and hurt until my outside is as broken as my inside.

"Is there anything you can _do_?" He continues to scream, kicking me again. "No! There isn't! There never will be!"

He twists around and begins to walk away, his sobs echoing around the hallway and filling my ears, reminding me over and over of all that I have done. He stops just before the corner and turns to face me again. "I hate you." He says. "I _hate _you. There will come a day when I don't hate you, there will come a day when we can hang out again. There will come a day when you think to yourself, 'he's forgiven me.'" Zeke says through his harrowing sobs. "But just know, I will _never_ forgive you." He yells, his face red with anger and hurt. "You're too good of a person for me to always hate, but nobody is good enough to be forgiven for killing someone. Not even you. I will never forgive you. Never."

Zeke disappears around the corner, but his sobs still reverberate through my head. I cannot escape them.

Pain radiates from my side, but the physical pain isn't anything compared to the feeling overflowing inside of me. I go back to my position from before, my head resting against my knees, but this time I force myself to do the opposite of before, my own punishment.

I force myself to remember everything about Uriah. Meeting him. Initiation. The way he fought. The way he looked at Marlene. His laugh, loud and clear even in the darkest times. I force myself to relive all of it.

I force myself to remember every reason I have to mourn, every reason I have to never forgive myself. Each memory is more painful than the last.

I hate myself.

I hate myself.

I hate myself.

It suffocates me.

It burns.


End file.
